


One Shots

by hollydermovoi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:23:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollydermovoi/pseuds/hollydermovoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of oneshots featuring Sabriel, Destiel and Team Free Love based off of Tumblr prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Destiel: Forgiveness

You forgive _me?_ I forgive _you_ Cas. I forgive you for calling my brother an abomination, which caused him to lose faith in God’s mercy and judgement. I forgive you for being a mindless drone for most of the apocalypse, and I forgive you for letting Sam out of the safety room so he could gank that bitch Lilith. 

I don’t want your fucking forgiveness Cas.

I want you to accept mine


	2. Team Free Love: Hair

Bobby Singer thinks about it some times, the sign of commitment his boys and those idjit angels had made for each other. They’d cut locks of their hair together, and braided it together- not only did it show that theirs was a polyamorous relationship, but it also made a handy tracking device for the angels, gave them part of their mates to focus on. He only had one because Gabriel insisted that as a platonic member of the flock he deserved a piece of it. He’d looked up the meanings of bonds and flocks and was no longer surprised when a piece of the ring started glowing. Depending on the glow, it meant that the person whose hair it was was either happy or hurt. Damned thing had saved his boys lives more than once, and even though he wasn’t entirely comfortable with some of the other symbolism of the ring, he was happy for that at least.


	3. Destiel: Floor-to-floor-carpeting:

Dean had always longed for the apple pie life, but had never managed to make it work. The thought of settling down permanently had terrified him for years, until now. He was oddly OK with the idea of settling down with Cas, except for one thing. “Floor-to-floor-carpeting Cas? Really?” The angel didn’t even look up from his intense perusal of paint samples. “It makes the floors warmer, and carpet is a much softer landing for any fledglings we might have than wood. I’m just thinking towards our comfort.” And that was it- he was completely OK with nesting (as Cas referred to it) with Cas, floor-to-floor-carpeting and all. Wait. _“Fledglings?”_


	4. Sabriel: Adventure

Kissing Gabriel was like exploring a new and often treacherous land- Sam was never sure what he was going to get. Sometimes he got the worshipping Archangel, all heat and honey. Sometimes he got the Trickster- all spice and chocolate. And sometimes he got just Gabe, a perfect mix of both. He never knew if Gabe seemed to find him particularly adventurous- after all, Sam considered himself to be rather vanilla- but Gabriel seemed to love kissing him, no matter which part of his personality was present. And that was enough reassurance for Sam, that what they had was an adventure worth having.


	5. Destiel: Bananas

“Dean.”  
“What?:”  
“You are severely lacking in potassium. I brought you some banana’s. You should partake in them.”  
Dean looked at the angel, who stared at him with all signs of ridiculous earnestness that was his trade mark. He had such pretty eyes…  
“Dean!” snapped the angel “The banana, take it. It’s good for you.”  
“Oh for fuck’s sake, I’m not a _monkey_ , Cas. I don’t need any frickin’ bananas.”  
“I am aware that you are not a primate Dean, but your potassium levels-‘  
“Leave it Cas,” interjected Sam. “Dean doesn’t eat anything that isn’t smothered in fat or sugar.”  
“I see.” said the angel, gravely. “Dean, if I make you what I believe is commonly referred to as…a banana split, would you eat it?”  
“Oh _hell_ yes Cas! Why didn’t you suggest that before? I’ll eat so many of them you’ll never worry about my potassium levels again.”


	6. Team Free Love: Pillow Fight

Sam woke up in a nest of pillows and blankets, with an archangel nestled against his chest and his brother’s naked body pressed against his back. He felt so safe and loved he felt tears fill his eyes. He was happy, something he hadn’t been since before the apocalypse. He was so happy that Gabriel had wanted him in his flock, that he’d wanted Dean and Cas as well. He couldn’t imagine being happier. Until his eyes landed on a pillow.  
Next thing he knew, feathers were flying everywhere, Dean’s laughter and Gabriel’s squawks of outrage intermingling into a joyous melody. Castiel spent a good ten minutes sitting there befuddled, well out of range, until Sam purposely beaned him in the head with a pillow. Watching Cas’s eyes light with righteous fury was so fucking _hot_. Sam couldn’t quite place the moment went the pillow fight turned towards kissing, but he didn’t mind.  
This was perfect.


	7. Sabriel: Trees

Gabriel’s favorite thing to do was to nest on top of trees. Sam had never really thought of tree sex as something that should be on his list of fetishes, but it was there now. But this- this was going to far.  
“No.”  
“But Sam-“  
“No Gabe. We are _not_ going to have sex on top of Yggdrasil.”  
“Why not?”  
“Well, for one thing, it’s where your kids will gather for Ragnarok, and two because we would literally be having sex on top of the world, and _I am not OK with that._ ”  
And that was that. Though they still had sex in trees


	8. Team Free Love: Tattoo

Sam was happy, with the marks the angels had placed upon them, and the grace that allowed them to share thoughts and feelings.  
Dean, far more possessive than his younger brother was not.   
The angels had marked the Winchesters, branded them with Grace and love for the entire world to see. Long before they’d met either angel, Sam and Dean had marked each other, with tattoos.  
 _Tattoos._  
There was a chance that if he asked nicely, he’d get the chance to mark up the angels like he so deeply desired. It’d sound better if it was coming from him and Sammy, but the chances of that happening were slims. He’d just have to ask in the middle of sex and hope desperately that they’d be open to his possessive request.


	9. Destiel: 17

Unlike Dean’s body, Cas had almost no blemishes. Yet every time they made love, Dean made sure to lavish just a little more attention on the seventeen scars he’d gotten in their time together, as a reminder that sometimes even angels are just human.


	10. Sabriel: Kids

Sam stared at the ginormous wolf bowed down in front of him. If he didn’t know any better, it seemed like it wanted to play.  
“He does.” came his boyfriend’s voice. Gabriel was suddenly right in front of him, looking a tad sheepish. “Sam, this is one of my son’s, Fenrir. He’s um…” the wolf licked Sam, leaving him slobbery and sticky. “Playful.” finished Gabriel.  
Sam eyed the wolf, then his boyfriend. Closing his eyes, he mentally counted to ten. When he opened them, he grinned. ”I don’t think I own a ball big enough for him to fetch.”  
The look on his boyfriend’s face was totally worth the next few hours of indignity as Fenrir’s new play toy.


	11. Destiel: Clumsy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mob AU: Dean's a Don, Cas is a waiter. Inspired by http://brakes.tumblr.com/post/29602149828

Despite a higher than usual amount of social anxiety, Castiel was actually a very good waiter. He was slightly surprised to be put on the Mob watch though. When he’d asked, Gabriel, his brother (and boss), had simply shrugged and said something about testing out newbies, and how if anyone would be OK with the Winchester’s horid taste in music it’d be Castiel, as Castiel had no taste at all.  
But the real surprise came when after that hellish first shift- full of crude jokes, and debates about iron versus aluminum bats, and the fact that _every_ single member of the mob had glared at him when he’d asked for their orders and served them- was that every single glaring mobster had left him a hundred as a tip. And that the leader- Dean, Gabriel told him- had requested that he be put permanently on their service.  
So with some trepidation, Castiel agreed- mainly for the tips, as where else (except for possibly a strip club, but he’d tried that once, never again) would he make over a thousand in tips PLUS salary PLUS the bonus for being discreet. He had student loans to pay off, and he’d really like his own apartment, even if living with Gabriel was a lot nicer now that they were “responsible adults”.  
After working eight shifts, Castiel grew fond of it- of working for the brazen Winchester’s. They grew nicer over time- less sexual innuendo, more smiles. They’d even given him a nickname- Cas. He’d helped Sam- Dean’s brother, and a very good hacker- ask Gabriel out. He learned the names of wives and children. He became adept at socializing at the age of 39 - with a group of “frickin’ _mobsters_ ” Gabriel had complained loudly, before tousling his hair, bending over to give Sam a kiss and whisking back to the kitchen to prep for dessert.  
Maybe his new ease with socialization is what made him mess up. He was serving wine to Ellen- the wife of Bobby, who was an expert at scrapping cars when he’d tripped and wine had gotten all over Dean. He’d gone bright red, and stammered out an apology before turning to flee to the kitchen. He hadn’t gotten very far when Dean swung him around to face him. “You’re going to help me clean up.” he’d said in a threatening tone of voice, before dragging a flustered Castiel off to the back. Castiel had been about to apologize yet again- and maybe give in to his overwhelming need to beg for his life- when Dean had kissed him.  
It took him a second, but when he finally relaxed into the kiss he could _feel_ the mobster’s growl of approval. When they finally broke apart for air, Dean grinned at him. “Cas.” he said, running his hand gently down Dean’s face, “I am so _fucking **glad** _ that you dumped wine on me.”  
Cas couldn’t help but agree.


	12. Sabriel: Haircut

They were kissing when that infuriating hair pushed his last button and Gabriel exploded.  
Literally. He was so angry he popped right out of his vessel, light filling the room. If Sam hadn’t been made to withstand the Morningstar’s light he would have been blinded.  
When Gabriel finally calmed enough to get back in his vessel, he didn’t even wait for Sam to speak, he just started to yell.  
First about the demon blood, which granted wasn’t Sam’s fault and had been burned out of his system long ago.  
Then about the hunting, which also wasn’t his fault.  
And Dean, which again….  
And on and on, until he was all yelled out and it came down to the _fucking hair._  
Sam couldn’t even look at him. He just got up and left. And despite the bond, Sam didn’t want to be found, so added to the Enochian symbols Castiel had carved into his ribs, he was impossible to find.  
Gabriel was sorry. But _honestly._ All of that _hair._  
——  
The next time Sam showed up, which was about a week later, (they’d been on a hunt, according to Dean, whom Gabriel was very grateful for keeping him updated on his mate’s activity) he acted as if nothing had happened.  
But there was one huge difference. Sammy hadn’t just gotten a haircut- he’d shaved his hair down to a buzz cut.  
Gabriel hated it.  
He missed all the things he had previously hated- how the hair had flopped into his mate’s eyes, how the sideburns had framed his cheek bones…and when had his mate’s ears gotten so _big?_  
——  
Sam was confused. Gabriel kept stroking his head, like he was trying to pet him or something. He thought that this would make the archangel happy- the former trickster had clearly hated his hair. And while he’d been hurt by Gabriel’s words, he hadn’t really found fault in them.The only thing he could really fix though was his hair, so he’d chopped it all off- or really, a very reluctant Dean had.  
However, Gabriel wasn’t happy. And that made Sam uneasy. He’d had enough of unhappy archangels to last him a lifetime, and he really didn’t want to make Gabriel angry again.  
He’d been so surprised when the archangel had courted him- it had really been surreal. If there was anything he was aware of, it was that he, in the eyes of angels, really wasn’t worth all that much. He had been uneasy, but he had accepted. He thought they had been happy. And then this had happened.  
——  
Gabriel, unbeknownst to Sam, had heard everything that had gone through his mates head.  
Those Winchester’s really knew how to through a first class angst fest.  
So he did what he could to fix it because damn it, it was his fault.  
——  
Feathers were tickling his nose, there was light everywhere and Gabriel was pressing kisses in all the right places.  
Hot damn. He should get Gabriel angry more often because the make up sex was _fantastic._ Also, Gabriel was doing something he very rarely did- sweet talk.  
 _I’m so sorry, I love you, **Mine…**_ On and on, and he could tell that these weren’t empty endearments, these were proclamations. He could feel the sincerity in their bond, and for the first time since before the apocalypse, Sam Winchester was absolutely certain that someone who wasn’t Dean or Bobby loved him.  
As if hearing that thought, Gabriel’s hands tightened on his arms, and more love poured through the bond. After that the only coherent thoughts were _Oh yes, right there,so good._  
When they were done and Sam was wrapped up snug in six wings, the archangel leaned into him and whispered into his ear “You are **never** cutting your hair this short _again.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (aaaaand I have no clue what happened here. Originally it was going to be Gabriel putting gum in Sam’s hair or something and then we got insecure!Sam, angst fluff randomness)


	13. Sabriel: Glow

His little brother had once made the mistake of referring to Sam as an abomination and ever since then, Sam’s faith had shattered. Before he’d thought that surely God, or an Angel would be able to recognize that despite the demon blood Azazel had forced into his body, Sam was honestly a decent person. Now- not so much.  
Gabriel hated that. He hated that a single word uttered by a seraphim who hadn’t known any better at the time was capable of bringing the big, lovable, floopy haired moose-human down like that.  
All he wanted to do was see Sam’s soul glow with a sense of self righteousness again.


	14. Destiel: Pokemon

“Dean, what are pokemon? And why does this…Ash Ketchum, seem so obsessed with his impossible goal of being the very best, like no one ever was?”  
“Damn it Sam, stop showing Cas 90’s cartoons! It confuses him more than porn!”  
“He reminds me of you Dean.”  
“Cas, I am nothing like that creepy, annoying ass kid, OK?”  
“Dean, how can I get my hands on a mew? They seem like handy sidekicks.”  
“Cas, they don’t _exist. “_  
“You thought _I_ didn’t exist Dean.”  
“SAM!”


	15. Destiel: New Clothes

“What the Hell?”  
Apparently Dean did not like his new coat.  
 _Which was fine, it’s not like he picked it out with Dean’s taste in mind or anything_ …Scratch that. He _i >liked _his new coat, and if Dean did not, well then Dean would simply have to adjust.  
“I was informed by Balthazar that my old coat made me look like some sort of serial-killer flasher.”  
 _“What?!?”_ said the hunter, looking outraged. Castiel frowned- although he was still not entirely aware of the ins and outs of human interactions, he did not believe that Dean was asking for clarification. However, he chose to be safe rather than sorry. “I said that Balthazar-“  
“I heard you before!”  
“Then why did you ask me for clarification Dean?”  
“Oh for the love of- I wasn’t asking for clarification, I was just- I mean…You know!” he said, gesturing wildly.  
“I am afraid I do not, Dean.”  
 _“You changed your coat Cas.”_  
“Yes I did.”  
“Why?”  
“I told you-“  
“Yes, I know, Balthazar said you looked like a psycho killer flasher, but _you changed your coat_.”  
“Was that not true Dean?” He didn’t believe his brother would lie to him about such things, but then again it was Balthazar they wer talking about. He uncomfortably fidgeted with his new jacket, feeling oddly insecure.  
“ _No._ Well... _Kind_ of…”  
“Either I did or I did not Dean.”  
The hunter sighed, clearly exasperated. Well bully for him. Castiel was also exasperated. And Dean was acting really strangely. He frowned, wondering if perhaps the hunter was feeling ill. He was about to inquire about Dean’s health when the hunter spoke again.  
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, the new coat suits you- ” and here Castiel was filled with warmth and pride “and I know I tease you about being a nerdy little accountant angel but…” and here he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck in the way that he did when he was embarrassed, refusing to meet Castiel’s eyes for a minute before finally continuing. “But I liked your old look, and I’m not real comfortable with change and…well, I wish you had just told me. Dude, if you needed to change your look, I would have been happy to help.  
Ah.  
“You are upset that I did not ask you for assistance.”  
“ _No_. I’m upset because we’re family, and if there’s anyone who can help you look innocent yet badass at the same time it’s me and Sam, and I guarantee you wouldn’t have left there looking like a psycho-killer flasher OR a mix between a geek and a biker.”  
Castiel pondered that for a moment.  
“In that case Dean, I could certainly use your and Sam’s help in replacing my suit.”  
The smile Dean gifted him with filled Castiel’s waning Grace with joy, and he haltingly reached out with one hand, feeling a great relief when Dean took it and squeezed it reassuringly, before dropping his hand and muttering something about chick flick moments and hollering for Sam to ‘haul his girly ass out here, we have accessories to shop for.’  
And for the first time in quite a while, Castiel felt as if he was part of a family again.__


	16. Destiel: Traditions

Humans had strange traditions.  
Fun. But strange. Like this one.  
“Stop pinching me Dean.”  
“But it’s St. Patrick’s day.” He was practically _whining._ This, along with the pinching, was very unlike him. So Cas pressed his hands to Dean and searched his soul. When he found nothing inhuman or unusual there, he relaxed slightly, tensing when Dean pinched him, _again._  
“Personal _space_ Cas.” said the hunter, pushing him away.  
He didn’t understand. Dean had been repeatively pinching him all day, him laying his hand on Dean’s arm, and momentarily searching his soul should not warrant such a reaction.  
“Dean.”  
“Cas. _It’s St. Patrick’s day._ Surely an _Angel_ knows about St. Patrick’s day.”  
“I know of St. Patrick, and his Saints day, of course, but I do not know what they have to do with you pinching me.”  
So Dean, with Sam’s help, explained to him this ridiculous tradition. Why did the color green prevent him from getting pinched? Why were leprechauns depicted as harmless, and jolly? And why did neither of the Winchester brothers seem to take his questions seriously?  
——  
It took some convincing, but Castiel finally got himself some green, if only to stop the pinching. They were joined by Bobby, and the four of them went around to “parties”.  
If there was anything humans had down to an art, it was finding an excuse to party.  
But for once Dean did not seem interested in getting drunk, or copulating with a stranger. And Castiel decided he did not like this holiday, not if it made Dean act so strange.  
——  
Later that night, Dean drove them home, with Castiel sitting next to him in the front, keeping an eye on the thoroughly inebriated Bobby and Sam. When they got to the house, Castiel graciously helped Dean carry both of the other humans to their respective beds, knowing that Dean was to proud to let him just do it himself.  
After that, they sat on the couch and watched some…documentary…on the search for leprechauns. When Castiel noted that the “scientists” were looking in all the wrong places, with the wrong tools, they talked about how to _properly_ hunt and track them. Sometimes he wondered how Dean and Sam had survived so long on all this misinformation.  
As the night progressed, he and Dean had changed topics multiple times. Castiel was surprised to find that he was _interested_ in their conversation. He hadn’t been interested in teaching and relating to others for a very long time. When Dean mentioned he’d like to have a drink, Castiel went and got it for him. As he returned, he noticed a button on on Dean’s leather jacket that read _Kiss me, I’m Irish._  
Why would Dean war something that advertized an untruth? Intrigued, Castiel made up his mind, and the next time Dean turned towards him with some snarky remark, Castiel kissed him.  
That’s when Castiel discovered the wonders of false advertizing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be more oneshots that I write later on that I'll add, but for now, this is it. Feel free to send me requests- I can't guarantee that they'll be filled, but they'll be considered.


	17. Destiel: Lips of an Angel

Now Dean Winchester had told many women (and not an inconsiderate amount of men) that they had attributes of an angel, but since he’d met a real, honest to God, Angel of the Lord he knew that there was one attribute they’d never be able to live up to.

And that was Cas’ lips. 

Dean had been obsessed with those lips- how they’d feel, how they’d taste, how they looked, what sounds they’d make when Cas was aroused, etc.

But none of that mattered anymore. 

Because if those lips of an Angel, on an honest to God, Angel of the Lord couldn’t tell him how to save Sam, then he wanted nothing to do with them.


End file.
